


More Than Good Enough

by Sereda



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Romance, Dialogue Generator Challenge, Fluff, M/M, cullrian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sereda/pseuds/Sereda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Perhaps you'll take me out one day - or do I have to make an appointment?’</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Good Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This has been written to fulfil the Cullrian Dialogue Generator Challenge from Esstiel over on Tumblr. I've never done one of these before as I'm not really one for prompts, but I fancied giving it a go. Do let me know what you think!

‘Perhaps you'll take me out one day - or do I have to make an appointment?’ Dorian asked, hands on hips. Suddenly the only sound was his foot tapping on the stone floor as he waited for Cullen’s response.

For all his flirting these last few months, Dorian had plucked nothing more than a few flustered rebuttals from the man. It was all terribly frustrating. All the evidence pointed to Cullen being interested. There were myriad ways he’d shown it: ordering Harritt to craft beautiful battlemage armour (the blacksmith  _spat_ when Dorian asked); the shy smiles when they played chess together; _always_ finding a seat next to him at dinner and insisting on paying for all his drinks in the Herald’s Rest…

Dorian savoured one particularly wonderful experience in that tavern: Cullen laughing, grabbing Dorian's arm to steady himself. His hand had lingered, rubbing the royale sea silk between his fingers and for a fleeting moment he'd cast a glance at the mage’s lips... and then Bull clapped his stupid big hands on their shoulders and that moment was gone.

Now here they were, yet again, at an awkward impasse in the middle of the Commander’s office. The warrior was silent a shade too long, presumably thinking of excuses.

‘Fasta vass,’ Dorian swore under his breath as he spun on his heels, slamming the door on his way out.

***

Later, he watched Cullen from the tower window sparring with the soldiers. A few locks of his usually carefully tamed blonde hair were falling forward onto his sweaty brow and beginning to curl. Pavus bit his lip imagining the same result after an entirely different physical activity. 

The Commander bashed a recruit with his shield sending him flying. Not far behind him, Iron Bull was going over some moves with Cassandra. It would be far easier to pursue the Qunari, the mage mused. After all, the great lummox was always flirting with him. But it was Cullen Dorian truly wanted, who he would _choose_. He could listen endlessly to his stories about his childhood, watch him command battalions even in the coldest climates and felt a deep yearning to hold him when he was gripped by his headaches.

Dorian sighed, feeling his own headache forming. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, reluctantly acknowledging he was clinging to these scraps of perceived interest like a teenager with an impossible crush. The man didn't truly want him. And, naturally, there was another good reason why he should stop pursuing the Commander, _he_ wasn’t good enough. It had been foolish to even try. When Dorian opened his eyes, Cullen was looking up at him. He felt a sad pang in his heart and withdrew inside.

***

That night, the mage drank heavily in the tavern. He’d decided that when he was lubricated enough he would proposition Bull to put some sort of end to his pathetic infatuation with the Commander. Of course, the Qunari would probably beat him to it and when a strong hand slapped him on the shoulder, he fully expected it to be the lusty behemoth. But it was _Cullen_ who moved beside him. The man smelled beautifully fresh, like he’d just bathed, and he was wearing an elegant dark blue, form-fitting tunic. Dorian groaned inwardly.

‘Commander,’ he said in flat greeting.

‘Pavus,’ Cullen replied, a smile lifting the corner of his scarred lip. ‘May I join you?’

‘No,’ the mage answered firmly.

‘Er… why not?’

‘Because, Commander,’ Dorian began, prodding him in the middle of his chest. ‘I’m trying to get drunk so I can shag that ridiculous Qunari.’

‘Oh,’ Cullen breathed, disappointment crumbling his features.

‘For the love of…!’ Dorian blurted, alcohol amplifying the volume of his voice. ‘Why the sad face hmm? I flirt with you outrageously for months, _months_ and you constantly reject me.’

When the man just stared at him, the mage blundered on. ‘Well, I won't be bothering you any longer. I've finally realised I’m not good enough for the Commander of the Inquisition, so there we are!’

The warrior grabbed his arm and Dorian was so surprised by the action that he allowed himself to be promptly steered through the tavern, out the door, over the ramparts and into the Commander’s office without another word. Once inside, however, he came to his senses. straightening his robes indignantly. Even though he’d rather enjoyed the strong hand on his arm, he simply wasn’t going to let that slide.

‘Commander, I don’t appreciate-'

‘I’m sorry, I... manhandled you. I needed to take you somewhere private to discuss this,’ Cullen explained. He considered his captive for a moment before asking, ‘Do you really think you’re not good enough for me?’

‘Well, the evidence certainly points that way doesn’t it? I’m the Evil Tevinter mage trying to corrupt the Chantry-approved Commander,’ Dorian snorted.

‘That’s ridiculous! I never said that,’ Cullen blurted.

‘You don’t need to, my dear, everyone is saying it for you. And your rebuffs certainly fail to fill me with self-confidence.’ Dorian knew he was being childish, but the alcohol wasn’t helping and neither was the warrior’s dark gaze.

‘Andraste preserve me, Dorian. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, of noble birth and impeccable taste. How can you not have self-confidence?’

 _The most beautiful man?_ Dorian’s heart skipped at the words, but he composed himself to snap, ‘Yes, yes, you’re right, Commander, on all counts, but the fact is if you wanted to act you would have.’

Dorian saw Cullen’s jaw tighten. ‘That’s not strictly true, Pavus. I…Well, I’m not a good enough match for _you_.’ The Commander rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’m a simpler man. I like Fereldan ale, my wardrobe leaves a lot to be desired and I don’t have a proper title.’

‘You’re the Commander of the Inquisition!’ Dorian exclaimed. ‘And I _like_ Fereldan ale.’ He paused, appraising the man with his hands on his hips. ‘Wardrobes can be altered, but I admit… I actually rather like your taste.’

Cullen smiled faintly. ‘Even so-'

‘Gah! Seriously, you are the most frustrating man,’ Dorian cried. ‘Now please step aside and let me get to the Bull who, let’s all be honest here, is most certainly _not_ good enough for me.’

The warrior blocked his path. ‘If you’re going to bed anyone, it’ll be me,’ he stated firmly.

Dorian blinked. That wonderful sentence doing something drastic to his loins. ‘What?’

The Commander held up a hand. ‘It’s not happening tonight, but… I’d like it to... well... happen.’

‘When?’ Dorian asked. Pathetic he knew, but he’d been waiting an age for the man.

Cullen chuckled softly, closing the distance between them. He lifted the mage’s chin and gently captured his lips with his own. Dorian had long imagined what this would feel like, but the man's freshly bathed skin, the lick of his warm tongue and the passionate rub of bristles were better than he’d dreamed. A strong hand clasped the back of his head, fingers twisting in his hair, while the other tenderly pressed the bare skin of his left shoulder. The mage couldn’t resist running his hands down the warrior’s muscular back and grabbing his buttocks. Cullen _growled_ and the sound went straight to Dorian's groin and he pulled back, witnessing the desire darkening his eyes.

‘When? Dorian purred, curving his lips into his most rakish smile.

Cullen inhaled. ‘Firstly, Master Pavus, I want to fulfil your request - I’d like to take you out.’

‘What… wine and dine me?’ he laughed in surprise.

The Commander nodded. ‘I’d been planning to, but then you pre-empted me this morning and I didn’t want it to seem as though you’d made me do it.’

Dorian chuckled, suddenly a little shy. He realised his hands were still on the man's buttocks and drew them up to rest on his hips. ‘I accept.’

He wasn’t sure if it was the drink or the kiss, but he’d never felt so high. He was being propositioned by a man he truly wanted for a change. And apparently he was good enough after all.


End file.
